


Thief and Saint

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Kleptoshipping - Freeform, M/M, Polyamory, Tendershipping, Thiefshipping, ethical non-monogamy, really odd friends with benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: Bakura hated how little he hated Yugi Motou





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bacon condoms are real ... why? Why are they real? 
> 
> Katsuya (for anyone that doesn't know) is Joey's first name in the manga (I used first name to indicate how close he and Yugi were). 
> 
> This was a lemonade prompt that got too long. It was for kleptoshipping where Yugi is really good with oral. It turned into a whole mess of ships, but I kept the citrus to the kleptoshipping.

Bakura hated how little he hated Yugi Motou. When he came back, wanted by neither gods nor Shadows, Yugi had done everything possible to integrate Bakura into his group- despite Bakura fighting every step of the way. Unfortunately, it was difficult to play cards or RPG’s without bumping into the King of Games, and like a sea anemone slowly accepting the presence of a clownfish, Bakura found himself accepting Yugi’s presence. As the years piled up, Bakura dueled Yugi more and more, until they didn’t even use the excuse of tournaments and just played in each other’s homes to kill the time.

 

But currently they weren’t playing Duel Monsters. They were playing strip poker and drinking a bottle of imported Russian vodka that Ryou had given Bakura as a “return day” present (Bakura couldn’t remember his actual birthday).

 

As an adult, Yugi wasn’t nearly the shrimp he’d been as a teenager, but he was still on the slender side, and it didn’t take many shots until he was flushed, giggling, and breathless. Bakura made it a point not to notice any of those things, and not to stare at Yugi’s bare chest- although his eyes kept flicking towards his opponent.

 

“I need two cards, Bakura. I’m trying to get the entire group together so they can be friends.”

 

“Sure, you do that,” Bakura said, handing Yugi two cards and giving himself three. He had a full house and was rather certain he was going to win the round.

 

“Yay! They’re all friends!” Yugi cheered and slammed a royal flush down on the table before it was time.

 

“Fuck me.” Bakura groaned as he pulled off his pants. He couldn’t even beat a drunk Yugi at poker, why the fuck did they still play together? Bakura was just going to end up cold and naked and hung over.  Still, he couldn’t stop; he relished the challenge of playing no matter how many times he lost.

 

“I’d like to,” Yugi hummed.

 

“Like to what?”

 

“Fuck you,” Yugi said it like it was the most casual thing in the world.

 

“No more booze for you,” Bakura said, gathering up the cards and shuffling them, but his palms were sweating.

 

“But the vodka just started to taste good!”

 

“That’s usually when it’s time to quit.”

 

“Oh don’t be like that, Bakura. I promise not to flirt anymore.”

 

“That wasn’t flirting. That was outright saying you wanted to get in my pants.”

 

“No, I want to get you out of them.” Yugi laughed. “And I have! Besides, I was only blunt because you get embarrassed when I flirt. It had nothing to do with being drunk.”

 

“I don’t get embarrassed!” Bakura shouted, dropping the cards on the table so he could cross his arms over his chest.

 

“You’re blushing.”

 

“It’s rage,” Bakura grumbled. “Can’t help it that I came back with Ryou’s stupid complexion.”

 

“We could turn it into a game.” Yugi gave him a coy smile.

 

“Oh, I’m sure we could.” Bakura chuckled, and then he vowed to stop drinking himself. He shouldn’t be chuckling at the thought of games and sex.

 

He wasn’t that drunk, but he was drunk enough that his emotional shields were down, and he’d rather not go into bed with someone while in honest drunk mode. He told Marik and Ryou that he loved them, more than once, under the same circumstances. He wasn’t afraid of blurting that out to Yugi, because it wasn’t love he felt for him. Nonetheless, _I don’t hate you,_ to the Pharaoh’s former vessel was a bitter thing for Bakura to say.

 

_I don’t hate you. I enjoy when we hang out together. I think sex with you would be incredibly fun. Please stop flirting because I’m afraid to hate you any less because it’s getting dangerously close to that friendship bullshit that I’m always trying to avoid._

 

He didn’t want to say any of those things. And he didn’t want to be in nothing but boxer shorts because talking and thinking about sex was getting Bakura’s cock excited. Bakura scooted his chair beneath the card table.

 

“Ah, don’t hide. I want to see how hard I can get you just by talking.”

 

“Rather convenient to say when you still have pants on.”

 

“That’s right. How rude of me.” Yugi fumbled out of his jeans, but when he tried standing up to shake them off, he ended up tripping and smacking his head against the corner of the card table.

 

Bakura sprang out of his seat and dropped to his knees, cradling Yugi and checking his head.

 

“Stupid fucking idiot! This is why we’re not drinking any more tonight. You’re a fucking moron-”

 

“You’re actually worried.” Yugi started laughing, running his palm down Bakura’s face. “You’re really worried about me. That’s so cute.”

 

Bakura snorted, trying to act like he didn’t notice Yugi’s hand on his face, or how close their mouths were.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Yugi asked.

 

“What?” Bakura’s face started burning.

 

“You’re so hard to read, so I don’t want to steal a kiss unless it’s wanted.”

 

“I have _never_ given anyone that courtesy.”

 

“With kisses?” Yugi asked.

 

“No, idiot, with stealing.”

 

“D-does that mean it’s okay to kiss you? I’m confused.”

 

“Me too,” Bakura confessed. Drunken honesty, it was like his kryptonite.

 

“At least we’re both equally confused.” Yugi brushed their noses together.

 

Bakura tilted his head, acting more on instinct than thought. His lips parted, and his eyes closed. A second later he felt soft, warm pressure against his mouth.

 

It was frightening, kissing Yugi. More so because their kisses were vodka-slow and friendly-sweet, and Bakura couldn’t get enough of them once they started. His hands somehow ended up in Yugi’s boxers, fondling his balls and stroking his cock.

 

Bakura pulled away. “Is your head okay?”

 

“Now you're asking?” Yugi laughed again.

 

“Shut-up.”

 

“My head his fine. Help me up.”

 

Bakura stood up himself and then pulled Yugi to his feet.

 

“Mmmmm,” Yugi hummed, palming Bakura's erection through his boxer shorts. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

“Dammit,” Bakura swore, realizing he wanted to go.

 

“Do you not want to?”

 

“I don't want to want to.”

 

Yugi giggled, slurring Bakura's words back at him. “Wantoo? Wantoo?”    

 

“I wish I didn't want to?”

 

“Pharaoh cooties?”

 

Bakura laughed at the ridiculous way Yugi had explained part of what Bakura was thinking. “Stop that. Stop being funny.”

 

“Why?” Yugi grinned. “Why? You like guys with a good sense of humor?”

 

“I should hate you.” Bakura held onto Yugi’s shoulders, shaking him a little, but it was a playful gesture without any violence in it. “I should _hate_ you.”

 

Yugi grabbed Bakura’s shoulders and shook him back. “I should hate you too, I guess. I should hate everyone really. Marik wanted to kill me, and Otogi, and Katsuya and Honda bullied me in highschool.”

 

“And the Pharaoh let them? I would have put those idiots in a pair of dice! Penalty game, bitches!”

 

“Noooo, Bakura!” Yugi whined, pulling him towards the bedroom. “You can’t solve problems like that. It’s why you get into so much trouble.”

 

“When’s the last time I was in fucking trouble? I’ve been a saint since I’ve been back! It’s disgraceful! I should stab you and redeem myself.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Saint, who always has black eyes from fist fights and weird things in your pockets because you _steal_.”

 

“Let’s be relative about this, Yugi.” For some reason Bakura was twining his fingers into Yugi’s tri-colored spikes and kissing him, as Yugi lead him down the hall. “Have I not been a saint, _relatively_?”

 

“Pfff, I guess.” Yugi chuckled, tugging at the hem of Bakura’s boxers as they walked. “But I hadn’t completed the Puzzle yet, when they would pick on me. I almost did, but Katsuya threw the last piece in a ditch.”

 

“He can’t do that to my Puzzle!” Bakura shouted.

 

“He got it back for me. It’s kinda how we became friends- wait that’s my Puzzle.”

 

“Fuck you, the Items were mine.” They toppled onto the bed. Bakura rolled on top, looking down at Yugi. “They were made with the ashes and souls of my people, my family.”

 

“Wait! What?” Yugi sat up so hard that he almost smacked their heads together. He looked like Bakura had shoved a hot poker into his gut.

 

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Bakura snorted, rolling over and feeling queasy. He wanted to blame the liquor, but knew it was really his memories making him sick.

 

“I don’t know! What happened? I knew they were made with Shadow Alchemy, but Atem wouldn’t talk about it. Bakura!”

 

“Nope. Nope. Nope. We’re not talking about this.” Bakura buried his face in his hands. “I’m still too drunk. If I explain I’ll tell you everything, and then I’ll cry, and then you’ll hold me, and then we’ll have some weird bonding moment, and I don’t want to feel any of that.” He tossed his hands aside, sitting up and staring at Yugi. “I don’t want to go through this again. Everytime I tell someone- it hurts, but I feel better afterward, but then all the memories creep up and it hurts again. I’m so sick of it, so fucking sick of it.”

 

“But how else can you heal? Please tell me what happened, even if you cry, even if it makes us closer.” Yugi’s eyes were deep, true violet and gleaming with a hint of potential tears. His mouth was twisted in a concerned frown. “I want to be closer. I want to help.”

 

“Heal? Are you fucking kidding me? If someone gets their legs cut off you don’t tell them to heal, you teach them how to use a wheelchair.” Bakura clutched at his chest, fingers digging into the scars that he and Ryou shared despite having separate bodies. “It’s worse … when it’s parts of your soul missing. It’s not something you can help with, Yugi.”

 

“I can't accept that. Seto-”

 

“Is still an obsessive megalomaniac.”

 

“But Marik-”

 

“Deals with chronic pain and will dissociate if he gets overwhelmed.”

 

“Ryou-”

 

“Is starting to remember things _I_ barely remember because my head was so far up Zorc's ass at the time.” Bakura used the heel of his palm to rub his forehead. “And I have to deal with that guilt on top of everything else.”

 

Yugi pulled Bakura down until they lay side by side.

 

“Okay,” he said.

 

“Okay? No love conquers all lecture?” Bakura stared at Yugi’s face, feeling far too vulnerable and far too sober now that the alcohol was wearing off.

 

“Younger me would have,” Yugi admitted. “But I get what you’re saying, and pushing the issue will only upset you, which isn't what I want to do.”

 

Bakura sighed. “Sorry I ruined the mood. I was kinda looking forward to sloppy drunk sex and then blaming the vodka the next day.”

 

“Maybe we can do this again sometime- strip poker and vodka, I mean.”

 

“What? And avoid all this lovely, awkward as fuck conversation?”

 

Yugi grinned, winking and giving Bakura a finger gun.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Bakura grabbed Yugi’s hand, making Yugi laugh as they wrestled. “That’s my move.”

 

“I stole it.”

 

“Better watch it, you’re supposed to be the good guy here.”

 

“But you’re a saint, remember? Guess we switched places.”

 

“You’d be the worst thief ever. You’d probably hide extra money in people’s pockets in order to help them.”

 

“Oh my gods, that sounds so fun. Will you teach me how to reverse pick pocket? I have tournament money I could use.”

 

“I was fucking joking.”

 

“Please, Bakura.” Yugi managed to pin Bakura’s arms over his head. He smiled down at Bakura.

 

“Don’t wanna,” Bakura muttered, looking away. Bakura loved getting pinned to the bed, fucking loved it, and he was having trouble at that moment trying not to start things back up. Bad enough to let his guard down and sleep with Yugi while drunk, but now Bakura was almost sober, and had no excuse whatsoever to hide behind.

 

Yugi dropped down, using Bakura’s chest as a pillow.

 

“One day, I hope you like me enough to teach me.”

 

“Never,” Bakura said out of sheer obstinance. Had it been Marik, they would have argued until Bakura conceded, but Marik knew Bakura well enough to pull at his strings. Yugi, on the other hand, was too nice for his own good and gave up too easily.

 

All the same, Bakura found himself wrapping his arms around Yugi’s waist, and allowing them both to fall asleep in nothing but their boxer shorts.

 

The next morning, Bakura woke up to the warm, glorious feeling of Yugi’s lips kissing up and down his neck. Bakura arched, it happened to be his favorite way to wake up, and again he hated how little he hated his former nemesis.

 

“So, do you collect fwbs like Ryou collects figurines?” Bakura squirmed, morning wood pressed hard against Yugi’s belly, and Bakura felt Yugi’s erection pressing into his stomach as well.

 

“I was just saying good morning.” Yugi pulled back. “I’m just … really physical with my friends, I don’t know.”

 

And there it was, that word, the one Bakura had been avoiding for the last several years, and really, there was only one thing to do about it.

 

“Hey Yugi?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I have ground chuck in the fridge. You want hamburgers for breakfast?”

 

“Fuck yes I do.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t want friends, what the fuck is wrong with me?” he whined into Marik’s lap.

 

They were at Marik’s apartment, lazing together on Marik’s couch. Bakura spent most weekends with him. They’d tried living together twice, but they’d always argue so badly that Bakura would move out. Now they just kept separate apartments- although Bakura kept Marik’s pretentious brand of almond milk in the fridge, and frozen vegan TV dinners, and they each had toothbrushes in the other’s bathroom, and their clothes were split between both of their closets.

 

“Bakura, you’re a nerdy, game-crazy cuddle slut.” Marik combed his fingers through Bakura’s unruly white hair. “And Yugi’s a nerdy, game-crazy cuddle slut. Why _shouldn’t_ you be friends?”

 

“Remember the good old days?” Bakura flipped over so he could look up at Marik. “Standing at the pier, trying to kill him?”

 

“Yeah, it was good times.” Marik smirked.

 

“And now he and I get drunk every other Monday and make out on my couch for half an hour at a time. The universe has a really sick fucking sense of humor.”

 

“I know.” Marik bent over and kissed Bakura’s forehead, going back to petting him. “Are you staying for dinner? I’m making kushari and I need to know if I can add the chickpeas or not.”

 

“No chickpeas.” Bakura wrinkled up his face.

 

“So I take it you’re staying.”  

 

“Can I?”

 

“Dork, you know you don’t have to ask.” Marik shifted so that he had Bakura half cradled in his arms, kissing him slowly and deliberately.

 

After a few moments Bakura sighed, hiding his head against Marik’s shoulders.

 

“I’m forgetting what it felt like.”

 

“How what felt like?” Marik asked.

 

“Being Zorc.”

 

“Bakura, that’s not a bad thing.”

 

“It is for _me_. Going from the ultimate manifestation of darkness to a regular asshole waiting for AMD to release their new graphics card is ripping me to shreds inside.”

 

“Bakura, you know you have to save that bullshit computer talk for Ryou and Seto, but other than that, I know what you mean.” Marik gave Bakura a helpless shrug. “I can’t even count how many times someone has pissed me off, and my hand goes for the Rod only to remember that it’s buried in Egypt, and it’s considered impolite to mind control people.”

 

Bakura laughed. “Yes, very impolite.”

 

“Look, why don’t you just stay a entire week? It’s been awhile since I’ve thrown a vase at your head and I’m starting to miss the make-up sex.”

 

“Mmmm,” Bakura hummed, pretending to consider the notion. “I do enjoy make-up sex.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later Bakura woke up to pounding on his door. He checked his cellphone, it was a little past one a.m. and Bakura was surprised he’d fallen asleep so early (early for him). He stumbled out of bed, tossed on some boxers, and made his way to the door.

 

“Yugi?” Bakura frowned when he saw who it was. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Yugi pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to mute the sobs pouring from his mouth.

 

“Calm down and tell me what happened.” Bakura pulled him inside, wrapping his arms around Yugi and stroking his hair. In his mind, he was already planning on gutting whoever made Yugi cry.

 

“Ryou- told me- about Kul Elna.”

 

“Fuck.” Bakura held his breath, angry with Ryou, although not enough to gut him. He pulled Yugi to the couch and held him as he cried, waiting for him to get the grief out of his system. Which, Bakura knew from experience, was all there was to do.

 

“No wonder you hate me,” Yugi squeaked out between tears several minutes later.

 

“I don’t hate you,” Bakura said, without alcohol to prompt the honesty. He just didn’t know what else to say.

 

“But don’t I remind you of Atem?” Yugi smeared tears across his eyes and sniffed, trying to calm down.

 

“Not really.” Bakura kissed Yugi’s forehead and wondered when he’d adopted such awful habits. “You only look like him as much as Ryou looks like me.”

 

Yugi nodded, understanding what Bakura meant more than anyone else could. He continued to wipe at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

“What happened? Afterward. Did you get adopted?”

 

Bakura started to laugh. His old laugh, the manic, boisterous laugh that let people know that their card game was a motherfucking _Shadow Game_. Adopted? That was the funniest shit Bakura ever heard. Yeah, lots of people lining up to adopt the little white-haired thief child. Egypt was on the verge of war, and people were starving in their own fields, but sure, adoption.

 

A fresh wave of tears crashed against Yugi’s cheeks.

 

“You stop that.” Bakura squeezed Yugi to his chest.

 

“You only laugh like that when you’re trying to hide!” Yugi rubbed his face against Bakura’s shirt, drying his tears again. “And that means whatever happened afterward was awful.”  

 

“Sure. It was awful. I could lie, if you want.”

 

“No.”

 

He had to survive alone, in the desert. He had to hide his hair or risk being stoned to death in the villages. He had to eat rotten food that he’d scavenge until he was good enough to steal his meals. Even then, at first the only thing he could steal was raw chickpeas from a old, half blind merchant. Bakura didn’t have a way to cook them, so he ate them hard and couldn’t stand chickpeas even to this day.

 

Also, he’d grown up with parents, and aunts, and uncles, and cousins, with people constantly hugging, and shoving, and wrestling with him. He’d grown up with affection, with physical human contact, but after the fire he’d been alone, and he never again had a village, or a family, or a chance to have a hand rest on his shoulder.

 

Which was probably why, as he sat there on his couch three thousand years later holding the former vessel of his greatest enemy, Bakura couldn’t help but nuzzle against the side of Yugi’s head. Thinking about Kul Elna always cause Bakura to feel touch-starved. It was one of the reasons he didn’t like talking about it. He wanted contact, physical contact. Sexual, romantic, platonic, it didn’t matter to Bakura, it was all Neopolitan ice cream, and he wanted to eat an entire gallon of it.

 

“Come on.” Bakura pulled them to their feet.

 

He would have liked to scoop Yugi up and carry him, but he wasn’t as scrappy as he’d been in his original body.

 

“Where are we going?” Yugi asked.

 

“Back to bed, stupid.”  

 

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t even remember running here from Ryou’s.” Yugi checked his pockets. “I left my phone. I bet he’s worried sick.”

 

And he was. Bakura had seven texts on his phone sitting on his nightstand. He let Yugi call Ryou. Bakura was tempted to call himself so he could scream at Ryou, but he felt hollow inside and didn’t really have the energy for a proper argument.

 

“Thanks.” Yugi handed the phone back to Bakura. “I’m sorry again. I can go, if you want.”

 

“Shut up and come to bed.” Bakura dropped onto the mattress, turning back the covers, leaving plenty of room for Yugi to crawl beside him.

 

Yugi stripped and slipped under the covers. He hesitated, and Bakura sighed in frustration as he pulled them back together in an embrace.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“I feel like I should be saying that to you.” Yugi scooted a little closer.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“It’s not good holding it in.”

 

“I’m not. I can’t hold it in, but talking about it doesn’t do any good.” Bakura felt himself shaking.

 

This time it was Yugi holding Bakura closer, pressing kisses into Bakura’s deranged hair.

 

“Then we won’t talk about it. Unless you decide you want to. But Bakura … please know … I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Gods, I wish there was something less useless I could say.”

 

Bakura gave a defeated chuckle, trying to imagine the Pharaoh apologizing. He couldn’t. Would it have done any good back then if he had? Probably not. Bakura was inconsolable.

 

“My mother loved to sing.” He told the ceiling.

 

“Can you still remember her voice?”

 

“Not well, but I remember that she sang. In the mornings when she got water, all day long while she made bread and worked in the fields, at night before my father would leave to raid tombs since we had no other way to eat.”

 

Bakura sighed. Retelling the tragedy of Kul Elna never helped, but Bakura realized he never shared any good memories, and he was desperate for something he could use to distract Yugi enough to get him to stop thinking about how the Items were made.

 

“All my cousins were bigger and older, but that never stopped me from wrestling them.”

 

“Did you ever win?”

 

“Mostly I got my ass kicked.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve never been so furious with you before. What the hell were you thinking, Ryou?” Bakura scowled a day later when Ryou came by to visit. They sat on the couch drinking coffee- Bakura’s black as his heart and Ryou’s so loaded with milk and sugar that Bakura didn’t understand why his former host even bothered.

 

“I was thinking that everyone that has ever used a Millennium Item should know exactly where that power came from.”

 

“Well good job, asshole, you made him bawl his eyes out.”

 

“Yes, and I feel awful about it, but I don’t regret my decision.” Ryou narrowed his eyes at Bakura. “ _You_ above all other people should know exactly how that feels.”

 

All the tension in Bakura’s body drained straight to the floor. He sighed and slumped his shoulders. Ryou rested a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You know, I’m really happy right now.”

 

“Because you get to see me look pathetic?” Bakura asked.

 

“Because I get to see you act like a person. It’s like every year you get better.” Ryou scooted closer so that their hips touched as they sat side by side.

 

“ _No_ I get worse- that’s the problem.”

 

“I know it’s scary.” Ryou leaned close, kissing the side of Bakura’s throat.

 

“I’m not scared,” Bakura grumbled, but he knew Ryou knew better. “But what the fuck was everything for? I can’t even remember exactly where I was going with my plans. It seemed so clear, the day I put on the Ring, but after that it’s like when you get too drunk and black out and you wake up in the morning stuck with vague impressions and feeling like shit.”

 

“I’m sorry-”

 

“No, don’t you dare.” Bakura fisted his hands and clenched his teeth. “I don’t want your pity and I don’t deserve your empathy.”

 

“You don’t have the right to tell me how to feel.”

 

Bakura leaned over to grab his coffee cup. The drink had grown luke-warm as they’d talked so he downed it in a single gulp to get rid of it. At that moment, Bakura realized it was far too quiet in the room. He should have had the foresight to turn on a tv or play music on his phone or do anything for background noise. When it was quiet, Bakura always thought too much, and currently he couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, about Yugi apologizing.

 

Bakura sighed, leaning his forehead against Ryou’s shoulder. “I’m the one that should say I’m sorry.”

 

“I told you four years ago that you didn’t have to, and I meant it.” Ryou rested his forehead on the crown of Bakura’s head.

 

“I’m not sorry for anything I did,” he said, and he said it because saying otherwise would be a lie. “But I’m sorry that you always ended up as collateral damage.”

 

Ryou’s sobs were so gentle that Bakura didn’t notice them until Ryou gave a little sniff. Bakura’s eyes widened, making Ryou cry was the last thing he’d been trying to do. It was worse than watching Yugi cry. He shifted his head up, and Ryou held his face in his hands as if trying to hide the tears so Bakura couldn’t see them.

 

“I’ll go.” Ryou offered, shifting off of the couch.

 

“No.” Bakura pulled him back down and into his arms, holding him like he’d held Yugi the night before. “Don’t go.”

 

“You’ll just feel guilty.” Ryou sobbed against Bakura’s chest.”

 

“Let me. You don’t get to tell me how I feel either.”

 

Ryou shook his head no, but didn’t try to leave again. Bakura eased them into the sofa. He always kept a blanket slung over the back- too often he’d crash on the couch after a night of excessive gaming- and he wrapped them together. Bakura felt like the worst creature in the world, and it was warranted, and he deserved the sour taste in the back of his throat and the heavy rock digging into the pit of his stomach.

 

He didn’t try to cheer up Ryou. That would have been stupid, but he gave Ryou the time he needed to feel all the sorrow he always tried to ignore.

 

“I wish you were a little more like me.” Bakura closed his eyes. “You could swear vengeance and slit my throat and then we’d even the score.”

 

“I wish you were a little more like me.” Ryou threw his words back at Bakura, they often did that to each other. “And then you could forgive the Pharaoh and stop struggling when people tried to show you affection.”  

 

“I’ll never forgive the Pharaoh.” Bakura did everything he could to keep his voice calm and not snarl the words out like a beast. He sucked in a hard breath and eased it out of his lungs. “I’m working on the other.”

 

“Yeah, I guess you are.” Ryou gave a sad laugh. “Look at us, swaddled together like real lovers instead of fuck buddies. I didn’t even have to ask for it.”

 

“You were upset, and it’s my fault,” Bakura argued.

 

“That would have never bothered you before.”

 

“Yes it did. At least, since I’ve been back it’s bothered me. It bothers me every day. Not only did I fail my village, but I fucked you up as badly as the massacre fucked me up,” Bakura’s voice rose in pitch as his emotions veered far out of his grasp or control, “and you and Yugi are always trying to replace the family I lost, and- oh gods, don’t you see how cruel it is?”

 

Bakura gnashed his bottom lip between his teeth. He vowed not to cry, it wasn’t right to cry when Ryou had more reason than him, but he failed that vow like his vow for vengeance and the tears seared his cheeks.

 

“When you hurt your enemy- it’s justice, but if I let myself care for you like I cared for my village … don’t you see? Then the people I love become the people that I hurt. That’s not justice- that’s unforgivable.”

 

“Bakura.” Ryou pulled at the blanket so he could sit up and look at Bakura. He blinked, eyes bright from tears that no longer fell. “I never thought of that. Knowing you feel that way explains so much.”

 

“It’s taken me four years to even put it into words.”

 

“Would you be happy if we stopped talking to you?”

 

“No.” The thought of losing the few people he managed to connect with felt like his village was burning all over again. He felt himself hyperventilating, and Ryou whispered soothing clichés into Bakura’s ear as he combed Bakura’s hair. Everything was too complicated and Bakura didn’t know how he’d bear the weight of it all.

 

“Hard as it is, it’s better, like this,” Ryou whispered. “Much better than when Zorc was in the Ring and we never even had a chance.”

 

* * *

 

Yugi wouldn't stop giggling, so Bakura knew something was up. It took him a moment to think to check his pant’s pocket for his wallet. He’d caved after all and taught Yugi how to lift things off of people. It was amusing to watch Yugi work, stealing billfolds, slipping money inside, and then running up to his mark with wide, innocent eyes, _excuse me sir, you dropped this_ , and then disappearing before they noticed they had more money than they should have tucked behind their credit cards and pictures of their kids. Bakura was glad that Yugi considered it all a game because, had Yugi really wanted to be a thief, Bakura would have lost his old title.

“Haha, give it back.”

 

Yugi batted thick lashes at Bakura. “Give what back?”

 

“You know damn well.”

 

“You’re the King of Thieves- take it back.”

 

Bakura never could resist a challenge. He tackled Yugi onto the sofa, distracting him with a long slow kiss and he slipping his fingers into Yugi’s pocket.  

 

Once he had his wallet back, Bakura sat up, still straddled over Yugi as he checked inside to see what Yugi hid. A glint caught his eye as the ceiling light struck the white wrapper of a condom. Bakura pulled it out and flicked it on top of Yugi’s forehead.

 

“You keep hold of that.”

 

“Bakura, you’re not even looking at it,” Yugi scolded.

 

Bakura frowned at the wrapper, wondering why Yugi wanted him to look at it when he’d seen condoms plenty of times before. Then Bakura’s mouth dropped.

 

“Are these real?”

 

“Yes!” Yugi cheered. “Katsuya and I bought them as a joke, but then we got curious and tried them- and they actually look like bacon strips. It’s crazy! Open it and see for yourself.”

 

Bakura tore into the the wrapper with his teeth, pulling out a disk marbled red and white.

 

“No fucking way.” Bakura sniffed the condom, wrinkling his nose. “I’m fascinated, amazed, and repulsed all at the same time.”

 

“I know, right?” Yugi laughed. “That’s why I had to show you.”

 

“And you said you actually _used_ them?”

 

“Yeah, we were too curious. They do taste like bacon, at least as much as the strawberry ones taste like strawberry candy.”

 

Bakura bit his bottom lip, staring at the condom pinched between his fingers and wondering what it’d look like wrapped around a hard cock.

 

“Fuck it, I want to try it.” He tucked the condom back in it’s wrapper, set it on the sofa arm, and started kissing Yugi.

 

“Mmm, Bakura, mmmm- oh!” Yugi moaned into their kisses and called out when Bakura rolled his hips against Yugi’s groin. “Y-you, you don’t have to. I mean, I have extra, so I’ll just give you a few if you want to try them with Marik.”

 

“Marik and bacon condoms? Are you trying to get me killed?”

 

“Oh, I forget…” Yugi said, his sentence dying as another moan slipped out of his mouth. Bakura continued to roll his weight into Yugi’s crotch, getting them both worked up and rock hard. Yugi started to pant. “Do … do you really- ah- want t-to do this? Because- oh fuck, Bakura take off my pants, please.”

 

Bakura fumbled with Yugi’s fly. He had to stand up, dropping his own jeans to the floor as Yugi slid out of his pants and boxers and kicked them both to the edge of the couch.

 

Bakura grabbed the condom and rolled it down Yugi’s cock, chuckling as the colored latex turned Yugi’s dick into a bacon strip.

 

“This is the funniest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.” Bakura chuckled, licking his lips.

 

Yugi gave half a nod, but Bakura didn’t think he was really listening. His purple eyes were lust-glazed, and his cock twitched in anticipation for Bakura’s next move. Bakura licked his lips again, allowing the tension to build and enjoying the way Yugi squirmed at the suspense.

 

Then his own curiosity overcame him. Baura tied his hair back in a haphazard knot, and then bent forward, opening his mouth wide and letting the condom slide against his tongue the whole way down. Bakura’s mouth watered at the taste. It reminded him of the cheap boxed bacon made for the microwave, but it was still bacony enough to make Bakura want to swallow before pulling up and licking his way back down.

 

Yugi clawed at the couch cushions, face already bright red. He wrapped a leg over Bakura’s shoulder, thrust a little into the back of Bakura’s mouth.

 

“That’s it. A little lower. Swallow my cock whole, Bakura.”  

 

Bakrua felt the blush spread across his face and down his neck. Yugi’s dirty talk didn’t come as a surprise, but it reminded Bakura exactly what they were doing.

 

“More!”

 

Bakura found himself dropping down until he had no more cock to swallow. He squeezed his lips around Yugi’s shaft as he pulled up.

 

“That’s so good. You are a saint,” Yugi teased, continuously hitching into Bakura’s mouth. “Could you go a little faster?”

 

Bakura was used to Marik and Ryou, who loved to draw everything out to the last possible moment. Yugi’s impatience was a new experience for him, and Bakura found himself giving quick, eager bobs of his head in response to Yugi’s commands. He moved so fast and hard that the knot in his hair fell, white hair scattering in every direction.

 

“Just like that! Another minute!” Yugi screamed, not shy in the slightest. He grabbed Bakura’s batwings and used them like reigns as he hitched harder into the back of Bakura’s throat.

 

Bakura’s nails sank into Yugi’s outer thighs, but Yugi only squealed in delight and tugged Bakura’s hair harder. Yugi started to full on buck, and then he gave a final yowl before he settled into the sofa cushions with a content sigh.

 

Bakura pulled back, wiping bacon tasting lube and spit away from his mouth.

 

Yugi chuckled at him, his gaze lidded and sleepy. “I can return the favor, if you’d like me too.”

 

Bakura’s balls were tight, his cock hard, he nodded, and ripped off his boxers without a second thought. Yugi dropped to the carpet. He kissed Bakura above the knee, looking up and watching Bakura’s reactions.

 

Bakura held his breath, trying not to hitch and squirm as Yugi’s soft lips brushed his skin, but he couldn’t help it. He was too aroused, too sensitive, and looking forward to the blow job far more than he should be.

 

Yugi continued to kiss his way up, reaching over to his crumpled pants and slipping another condom packet from his pocket. He tore it open like a pro and held the condom between his teeth before dipping his head down and rolling the latex over Bakura’s cock.

 

“Ready?” Yugi asked with a shy smile.

 

Bakura nodded, wordless and nervous. From what he’d heard from Seto and Ryou, Bakura was in for a rollercoaster ride. Yugi slurped Bakura’s cock into his mouth like he was ramen. Bakura gasped.

 

“Oh fuck,” he exhaled and arched right away.

 

Yugi sucked dick like he gave no fucks, like it was just another game in which he was already king.

 

“Holy fuck!”

 

Bakura’s toes curled. He held his breath, then blew it out hard before sucking in another desperate breath and holding it in again.

 

“Fuck.” It was the only thing he could manage to say. Even thinking of other words was too much for him.

 

And then Bakura realized it was too good, far too good, and he was going to come then and there despite it only being a few minutes into the act.

 

“I can’t, I can’t, oh gods! Fuck!”

 

Bakura came so hard that tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. When it was over, he wiped them away with the back of his hand while trying not to feel embarrassed for doing it.

 

Yugi pretended not to notice, cleaning up and hopping back into his boxers.

 

“So yeah, not as good as a double bacon cheeseburger, of course, but I thought the novelty of them were fun. I mean, definitely worth the curiosity buy, don’t you think?”

 

Bakura nodded, still trying to recover from the rush of orgasm.

 

“So, uh, yeah, um … bacon- Bakura are you alright? You look shaken-up. Did I upset you somehow?”

 

“A double bacon cheese burger sounds amazing.” Bakura looked away, trying to avoid the answer- the blow job had simply been _that_ good- and Bakura wasn't ready to admit it. “You should go get some and bring them back … maybe we could play Battletoads after we eat.”

 

“I love that game! It’s a date.”

 

* * *

 

When Marik opened the door Bakura shoved a bouquet of half a dozen sunflowers into his chest and then turned to leave.

 

“Here. Take these. Bye.”

 

“Wait! What the hell are these for?” Marik stepped out into the hallway.

 

“They’re nothing,” Bakura called over his shoulder. He’d had an entire speech planned, but the second he saw Marik in his kohl, and gold, and silk top, Bakura had lost all nerve and decided to bail.

 

“Like hell it’s nothing!” Marik chased after him, slamming him against the hallway wall.

 

Bakura looked away, but Marik used his free hand to grab Bakura’s chin and force him to stare Marik in the eyes. Bakura blushed. Anyone else would have let him walk away. Anyone else would have accepted whatever muttered excuse he gave and let him walk away, but not Marik.

 

“I fucking love you,” he whispered, smirking as he thought about it.

 

Marik blinked once. “Are you drunk?”

 

The question hurt, but Bakura knew he deserved it. He tried to squirm out from beneath Marik’s hold.

 

“I have to go-”

 

Marik shoved his tongue in Bakura’s mouth. Bakura stiffened a moment, then relaxed. Marik pulled away.

 

“You’re completely sober.”

 

“I know that, asshole, but thanks for the kiss.” Bakura wiped at his mouth.

 

“Get inside, you moron.” Marik tugged Bakura by the sleeve of his shirt back into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him (as if that could contain the former Thief King). “What’s all this about?”

 

Bakura scratched his scalp. “Nothing.”

 

“Bakura,” Marik hissed.

 

“You know I hate talking about this stuff.” Bakura growled up at the ceiling.

 

“Are you sick? Holy fuck, are you dying?”

 

“What? Marik, what the fuck are you talking about?”

 

Marik smacked Bakura’s chest with the flowers. “You have _never_ done romantic shit, so you either lost a bet or you have brain cancer!”

 

Bakura started laughing, so hard that he stumbled backwards and dropped his ass to the carpet. He held his stomach.

 

“Marik, I’m not dying.”

 

Marik sat on the floor across from Bakura, looking at the flowers and fixing the petals that skewed when Marik smacked Bakura on the chest.

 

“So what's this all about?”

 

Bakura drew hieroglyphs in the carpet with his finger.

 

“I don't know … I've been,” Bakura rolled his eyes, thinking of his words, “ _toying_ with this whole _human_ thing. I mean, I’ve been thinking a lot, about my life before the fire. I don’t have a lot of memories, but ...” He looked back at Marik. “Would it be so wrong? If I tried to live a bit? Like, go out, and have fun? Actually live like I'm a person?”

 

Marik narrowed his eyes. “Yugi and Ryou didn't lock you into a basement all week long and brainwash you into a life of friendship and kindness, did they?”

 

Bakura grinned, crawling into Marik's lap and slinging an arm around his neck.

 

“Why yes. That's exactly what happened, and now it's my turn to bring a new victim into the cult to prove my worth. What do you say Marik? Join us. We knit and sing songs and can our own jam.”

 

“I think you’re confusing friends with seventy-five year old women.” Marik smiled, sniffing the flowers. “Why sunflowers?”

 

“Because they look like the fucking sun, don’t be dense.”

 

Marik’s smile turned into a smirk. “I wanted to hear you say it.”

 

“Anyway.” Bakura stared at the door. “Time for me to run off and avoid the inevitable sentimental moment that will lead to us getting uncharacteristically cute with each other.”

 

“Oh hell no.” Marik wrapped an arm around Bakura’s waist and held him flushed with Marik’s chest. “You said you wanted to toy with humanity. I’m assuming that means fallible human romance if you’re bringing me flowers and saying you love me without the help of Jack Daniels.” Marik brushed Bakura’s hair aside with his nose, and then kissed along Bakura’s collarbone.

 

Bakura gasped. “Marik?”

 

“Shhhh, I’m trying to work my way up to saying it back.”

 

Bakura blinked; a strange feeling made his stomach quiver. “Say what?”

 

Marik hid in Bakura’s hair, and Bakura had enough time to think _Aha! Just as I thought! Uncharacteristically cute. Fml._ But then Marik spoke and Bakura’s mouth dropped open at the words.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What he'd do then?” Yugi asked.

 

“Said it back,” Bakura answered.

 

“That’s so cute.”

 

“Shut up, you’re as bad as Ryou.”

 

“I know, that’s why we’re friends.”

 

“Yeah?” Bakura asked. “Then why are we friends?”

 

Yugi sat up with wide eyes. He’d come over to play games, but all they’d done so far was sprawl out across the bed like two snow angels and talked.

 

“You just said we’re friends!”

 

Bakura rolled his eyes. “You know, maybe it’d be easier to express emotions if you assholes didn’t make a big deal of it each and every time.”

 

“How can I not make a big deal out of it? I feel like I just won!”

 

“The Bakura game?” Bakura raised an eyebrow.

 

“You’re not a game.” Yugi leaned forward, rubbing their noses together.

 

Bakura’s nose scrunched up. He giggled and shook his head to the side to keep Yugi’s skin from tickling him. Yugi surprised him by squeezing him in a bear hug and kissing the side of Bakura’s neck. Bakura’s breath hitched, and he ran his thumbs just above Yugi’s waistline, mapping out the soft skin. Yugi squirmed the moment Bakura’s touch brushed against his body. His eyes lidded and he started breathing between parted lips.

 

“You’re too impatient.” Bakura smirked.

 

“Now _you’re_ the one that sounds like Ryou.”

 

“Oh? Does he like to tease you?”

 

“Um, n-no?”

 

“That was an awful lie. I know you can lie better than that.”  Bakura flipped them so that Yugi lay spread eagle on the mattress.

 

He slipped his fingers beneath Yugi’s shirt and dragged very soft touches down Yugi’s chest.

 

“P-please don’t tease me.”

 

Bakura’s smirk grew large and crooked. He was usually on the receiving end of such torture and it was nice to be the one causing the whines and pleas for once. He pushed the fabric of Yugi’s shirt up his stomach and continued to trace slow, meandering paths across Yugi’s pale skin. Bakura bent down, kissing around Yugi’s navel and licking just above Yugi’s pant line.

 

“I’m out of the flavored condoms,” Yugi said.

 

Bakura grunted, dipping his tongue below Yugi’s pant line. He didn’t lament the lack of flavored condoms. The last one had tasted like off-brand banana taffy and put Bakura off of blow jobs for a week afterwards.

 

“I have something else in mind,” Bakura muttered against Yugi’s skin.

 

He slipped off Yugi’s shirt, giving himself access to Yugi’s entire chest. He didn’t hurry, touching and kissing at his leisure. Yugi tugged at Bakura’s front spikes, but Bakura only grinned, swirling his tongue around the outside of Yugi’s nipple, but avoiding the tip of it.

 

“Bakura,” Yugi scolded.

 

Bakura chuckled, giving Yugi’s nipple a single lick. Then he went back to teasing.

 

“Bakura!”

 

This time he indulged Yugi, rolling his tongue along the hard bud and nipping at it with his teeth.

 

“Mmmm … thank you,” Yugi sighed as Bakura started sucking the opposite side.

 

“How much jewelry do you even own?” Bakura flicked a metal stud shining from one of his black leather bracelets.

 

“Never enough,” Yugi answered.

 

Bakura struggled with his pants, trying to pull them off while still keeping Yugi too distracted to notice. He gave up, ripping off his shirt and then pants before jerking Yugi’s pants down to his ankles and off of his body. Bakura rummaged through his top drawer, grinning when he saw the cock ring. He grabbed that and a bottle of baby oil.

 

Bakura poured the oil into his hand coated Yugi’s cock with it, sliding the cockring down and made sure it fit properly. Yugi watched in silence, his face flushed and his eyes dark and eager. Bakura started to stroke his own cock, closing his eyes and concentrating on the texture of his palm as it squeezed up and down. When Bakura was both slick and hard, he dropped his hand and settled between Yugi’s legs.

 

“Do you have condoms? And lube? I’m not used to bottoming, Bakura. I need lube.”  

 

“I told you, you’re too impatient,” Bakura snapped, feeling impatient himself. “Who said anything about you bottoming?”

 

Yugi blinked, looking a little puzzled until Bakura pressed the head of his cock against Yugi’s shaft and ran it up until their tips touched. He did that a few times, smirking at the gasps it pulled from Yugi.

 

“You’re still teasing me.” Yugi smacked the back of his head against his pillow in protest the the easy, slippery glides against his cock.

 

“The Heart of the Cards can’t save you from everything.” Bakura laughed.

 

“You’re mean.”

 

“You’re impatient.”  

 

“You’re- _ahhh_ \- good at this.” Yugi moaned when Bakura started frotting fast against Yugi’s cock.

 

Bakura continued to rub their cocks together, grunting as little bursts of pleasure shot through his body. Yugi’s cock swelled and darkened, restricted by the cockring.

 

“Take it off,” Yugi begged between ecstatic moans.

 

“No.”

 

“Please.”

 

“Ha! You know better than that.”

 

Yugi grabbed the pillow, shoved it over his face, and growled. It was cute, and Bakura laughed at him. He shifted so that more of his weight grinded down against Yugi’s cock, panting and wondering how Marik always made fast and hard seem easy. Yugi started cursing, the pillow muting the words to needy muttering. Bakura felt himself climbing as he jerked his hips back and forth.

 

Bakura pulled back, sucking at Yugi’s nipples and trying to calm back down. Yugi squirmed, hitching up his hips and trying to restore the missing friction to his now red-violet cock.

 

“Please, Bakura. Pretty please.”  

 

He knew he shouldn’t listen, that he should draw the moment out until Yugi was in tears and ready to rip the sheets with his grip, but Bakura decided he was horrible at edging. He struggled to get the slippery cockring off of Yugi’s balls and shaft, and tossed it to the floor. He dropped down hard and moved fast, muttering his own gentle curses as he felt his balls tighten and his cock throb.

 

“Yes!” Yugi threw the pillow off to the side, dropping his head to the mattress and calling out.

 

Bakura grabbed both their cocks and started stroking them together, making Yugi’s voice echo across the walls as he screamed. He scrunched up with a loud moan, pulling at Bakura’s hair again. Yugi bit into Bakura’s chest as he came.

 

“Watch it,” Bakura snarled, but on the edge himself, the sting of the bite only sent sharp sensation into his nerves that didn’t register as pain or pleasure, but rather something in between.

 

“Sorry,” Yugi muttered, too far gone in the glow to really mean it.

 

But that didn’t matter to Bakura. He didn’t want an apology- he wanted to come. He moved his hand a little faster, hissing as the tip of his cock became almost too sensitive. Then he spilled over his own hand and Yugi’s belly, crashing against him as he sank to the bed.

 

Yugi muttered something else, too asleep to articulate. Bakura kissed Yugi’s temple and stared at the ceiling.  Fire would always haunt him. Ash would always haunt him. The knowledge- that he’d been so weak that his bitterness and hatred had destroyed him and, in turn, had damaged the people who were now closest to him- would always haunt him. But he was starting to remember lyrics to the songs his mother sang in those too short, almost too happy days before fate had damned his soul. It seemed, to Bakura, that the more he fumbled his way back to his own humanity, the more he could remember, and one day he hoped to recall an entire song, so he could sing it out loud to everyone that he’d learned to love.


End file.
